Your Weapon to Wield
by podivny
Summary: What if Bracken isn't the killer? After Dr. Burke's files on Beckett are stolen to keep her quiet, Beckett opens up to Castle about her PTSD, admitting that her feelings for him trigger her PTSD flashbacks. How do they move forward when their lives are in danger & Beckett can't distinguish the ache of her longing for Castle from the scorch of the bullet? Post-Limey.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** An international conspiracy thriller starting at the 12th precinct. This is how I wish the case of Beckett's mom's murder and "Always" had gone.

To get started: This starts towards the end of "The Limey" but to make it all fit I have to change a couple scenes in The Limey. Most notably, the conversation over wine between Kate and Lanie didn't happen because in this fic, the reasons for her keeping her secret and not moving forward with Castle are different (and actually discussed!). Second, because I was a bit perturbed by the cop-out of the show never calling the guy out for weapons trafficking to a rebel group with a terrible human rights record, my story picks up in the interrogation room with the final suspect.

To get us in the mood and re-cap The Limey case, the italics in the beginning are from the show. I move on from there, extending that final interrogation scene.

**UPDATE:** This chapter has been posted before, but given a reviewer's comment on my switching character points of view, it is updated slightly. Thanks for the helpful review Ifvoy!

**Disclaimer:** Unsure as to why this is necessary given the name of this site, but anyway. Don't own it. Duh.

* * *

_Beckett: You know the thing that I find intriguing is that before you became Biggie Slim your name was Darius Young, best known for launching several failed internet startups._

_Biggie Slim: I'm just a man ahead of my time._

_Colin Hunt: Well the SEC thought you were a man trying to fleece investors._

_Biggie Slim: See, I was never charged for that._

_Beckett: One of your ventures, a music sharing website based in the UK, caught the attention of British authorities. And when they tried to shut it down, an aid to the Minister of Culture lobbied on your behalf. And do you know who that aid was? Nigel Wyndham [now Deputy General at the British Consulate in New York]. In fact, this is Nigel stepping out of the very same black SUV… We also know that your cousin is in the service, Drew Harris._

_Colin Hunt: A staff sergeant. He works at an armory. He supplied the missiles._

_Beckett: You knew that Wyndham had access to the diplomatic pouch and you saw an opportunity [to smuggle missiles into Uganda]._

_Colin Hunt: Supply and demand._

…

_Beckett: "You know, the thing that I still can't figure out is 'why Uganda.' Why would you care?"_

_Biggie Slim: "Man, it wasn't about Uganda. It was just about the money. I didn't even know where Wyndham was shipping the stuff to."_

Beckett's outrage begins to leak through her carefully constructed façade. "You didn't even _think_ to find out where these weapons were being shipped? Haven't you heard of Joseph Kony? The Lord's Resistance Army kidnaps kids and forces them to fight for them. They massacre entire villages and you're saying it wasn't about Uganda? You sent them _missiles_ they used to shoot down doctors that were just trying to help save people and you don't even care. I knew someone that went on a Doctors Without Borders mission too, just like Naomi Allan, and he would come back with horror stories of children butchered, boys fleeing for their lives, entire families dying from famine. And you sent them weapons without even a second thought."

Biggie Slim looks up, surprised by her outburst and ongoing monologue. "Look, it wasn't about all that. It was just about the money."

* * *

Beckett bursts out of interrogation, furious. She can't erase from her mind the images Josh had shown her from his trip to Uganda. As harrowing as some of the murder scenes she came across in New York City, these stories stole her heart. She stops in her tracks when she sees Castle, his eyebrows furrowed, looking helpless and concerned. Concerned? She lets out a shaky breath and nods toward the break room.

"I need some coffee," she mutters, turning slightly. "You coming, Castle?" Her tone is less playful than usual, dropping the usual innuendo for a hint of genuine fear that he might not follow. Bringing up a former boyfriend during the interrogation was probably not her best move, if she didn't want him to run off to Jacinda.

Castle shakes the depth from his expression and saunters after her, waiting beside her as she fiddles with the espresso machine for a change. "Let me help you with that." He pushes into her space desperate to make coffee, as if clinging to a machine will help him stick to her. Maybe he's trying to maintain a sense of normalcy, she hopes.

"No, Castle, I got it. You like lots of foam, right?" Beckett detects a glint of hope in his eyes as he takes the coffee she offers him. But he takes a step back instead of forwards as he sips, bringing them, yet again, to a stalemate.

After a few minutes each lost in their thoughts and eyes drowning in their coffee cups, Beckett breaks the silence. "Josh knew so many of those families. The stories he would tell when he got back from his trips… they made me feel guilty for being so wrapped up in my mom's case. Her death was brutal, but compared to some of those kids, some of the women raped and tortured, the men hacked into—" her voice cracks remembering.

"Kate—"

"No, Castle, it's true. His stories would make me feel so selfish, like I was missing some bigger picture. And I know that she was my mother so I'm allowed to care a bit more, but when I hear people like Biggie Slim saying he was just in it for the money, it reminds me of Coonan, _just in it for the money_, not seeing the bigger picture around her murder, either. Sometimes I feel like we're all game pieces in someone else's game. I only know a miniscule piece of it and I'm just moved around like the rest of them, totally ignorant of the bigger play. I just wish, sometimes, that I could be the chessmaster."

Castle opens his mouth to reply when the break room door is thrown open.

"Beckett!" Gates' harsh voice interrupts their thoughts as she walks into the break room thoroughly disrupting whatever peace they had managed to obtain. "There's been another murder and you're on the case. It's at 116th and Frederick Douglass Blvd. CSU is already on the scene."

"Wait. Captain, that's not in our jurisdiction." Beckett says confused. "And anyway, we still have to wrap up this case."

"You don't think I know that?" Gates snaps. "The paperwork for this one will have to wait. Your name and contact information for our precinct was found in the victim's wallet so they're handing it over to us. So _generous_of them" the Captain sneers as she turns to walk away.

"What? Why?" Starts Beckett.

"Don't question me, just get there. Now." Gates is out of the room before she can hear Beckett's reply.

"Yes, sir." Beckett calls after Gates anyway. She then looks to Castle, her eyes questioning whether he is coming with her.

"I'll get your coat. Meet you at the elevator." he responds softly. "I have to, uh, cancel some plans with Jacinda." At the mention of Jacinda, Beckett looks devastated for a quick second before schooling her features.

"Right, of course. I'll get the boys." She doesn't offer to let him go on his date anyway; she wouldn't be able to stomach it if he did. She wonders if she should try to talk to him in the car but she can't fathom what to say that will get him to stop pulling away from her. What did she do? Why his sudden interest in a bimbo stewardess—er, flight attendant? Castle comes up behind her, pressing the down button on the elevator to halt her ruminations.

* * *

Beckett takes the final turn too quickly, her tires screeching as she pulls to a stop at the crime scene. From her car she peers across the yellow "caution crime scene" tape and what she sees immediately turns her face white. She clenches the steering wheel.

"Castle." It's all she can whisper. Her breath comes in shallow bursts and she stares straight ahead.

On the passenger side of the car, Castle can't see the crime scene and he gives her a questioning glance, only the quick tapping of his middle finger on his knee an indication that he is itching to get out of the car. Within seconds Beckett shakes her head, takes a deep breath to construct a professional veneer and reaches to open the door. The only sign that something might be wrong is the split second she fumbles with the handle and the dead cold in her eyes as she approaches the victim.

Once Castle sees it—and looks at her with those all-telling, worried eyes— Beckett can tell that he knows. The woman is propped up against a building, knees bent and arms open, blood on her shirt and running down her arm to pool and dry in her cupped hand. She had been stabbed in the stomach. The scene is eerily reminiscent of her mom's murder except this victim is wearing a colorful and boldly patterned skirt and bright orange blouse, contrasting nicely with her darker black skin. Cops in uniform guard the crime scene and Beckett has to show her badge and introduce Castle to get past.

"Detective Howard, I'm Detective Beckett from the 12th and this is my," she hesitates slightly, voice wavering, "partner, Castle." _For how long_, she wonders. "I understand you are handing the case over to us at the 12th?

"More specifically to you, Detective. Do you know Djani Kayembe?" Detective Howard is a tall, fit and authoritative-looking African American, and while Beckett has never met him, she knows he has a solid reputation, his case closure rate almost rivaling hers. "I found her passport in her purse along with a tourist visa."

"Never met her or heard of her. My Captain said she had my contact information?"

"On a slip of paper also in her purse, along with directions to the precinct."

"I don't know why" Beckett starts to question but gets cut off by Detective Howard before she can finish.

"Don't care why. She has your name in her purse so it's your case." He speaks gruffly, obviously not wanting the extra work or the argument.

"Looks like she's new to town" interrupts Castle, intrigue showing as he nods at the map folded up on the ground nearby. "I bet that fell out of her purse during the attack."

"According to the stamp on her passport she got here three days ago. 'Welcome to America'" Howard said with exasperation, walking off.

Beckett turns to face to the medical examiner on the scene, a completely unmemorable middle-aged man dressed in a wrinkly brown plaid button-down shirt that didn't match his blue slacks. "Cause of death?"

"Not sure, actually. She was stabbed and then shot. Or shot and then stabbed. I won't know which came first or which killed her until I get her back to the lab. She hasn't been dead long. Looks like time of death was between 9:45 and 10:30 when the police were called." He mumbles, speaking more to the body than to Beckett and Castle, not even glancing at the team before him and completely unfazed by the bright flashes from the CSU team photographing the body from every angle possible.

"_That's why he works with dead people_," Beckett hears Castle mumbled under his breath, hands in his pockets, and she shoots him a quick glare. Castle clamps his mouth shut immediately but then gets a glint in his eye and his self-control dissolves in it.

"Why would someone need to stab _and _shoot someone?" Castle, as always, asks the obvious. "That's the opposite of killing two birds with one stone. Overkill. Or, double-kill." Beckett just rolls her eyes and carefully walks around the body, painstakingly committing each detail to memory, scrutinizing the scene to find anything that doesn't fit.

Once CSU finishes processing the area, Beckett turns to walk back to her car. The case will have to wait until morning, anyway.

* * *

"Uh, Beckett?" Castle asks as she turns towards her apartment instead of his loft. Usually she drops him off, if they have to visit a crime scene this late.

She takes a deep breath. "Castle" her voice trails off. She can't say it. Can't just tell him, _we need to talk, come to my place, stop pulling away_. She doesn't know if she's strong enough for any of this yet, can't fathom she might be ready, that only a week ago she thought she _was _ready. But she also can't let go. If Castle is going to just pull away from her, if he's not going to fight for her and come after her, she's going to have to do something. _But what?_ Her mind screams at her. And she doesn't know, so instead she sighs, turns left—away from her apartment and towards his loft—and silently berates herself for having this one fear.

Castle's phone breaks their newly established silence, startling both of them as it echoes through the car. Castle takes the phone out of his pocket and his jaw drops.

"Kate." His voice cracks at her name. She tilts her face towards him seeing his distress. He shifts his weight from butt cheek to another, squirming in his seat. His eyes skim the landscape as they drive through the city trying to find an anchor—any anchor but his phone or her eyes, which are wide and inviting, silently beckoning his gaze. She peeks at his phone, still ringing, curious who could be calling that would make Castle react so immediately.

She stops at a red light and turns to him. "Castle?" The lightness of her voice belies the concern and fear growing in her. "What's wrong?"

By now his hands are shaking so fiercely his thumb can hardly find the screen's green button to stop the piercing sound. His mouth moves to speak—to offer an explanation, she thinks—but nothing comes out. Instead he puts the phone on speaker, clears his throat and answers.

"Hello." Castle's voice is low, trembling along with his hands.

"I think you know why I'm calling, Mr. Castle" says the ominous voice of Mr. Smith.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** Thanks for the feedback everyone!

I'm not sure whether to say "Beckett" or "Kate" so I've decided what I'll use is what I think Castle would use in the situation—Beckett in "public" and Kate when the conversations and scenes veer more "private." If anyone else has a better way to navigate this, I'm all ears.

* * *

.

"Castle." He answers with his voice low, trembling along with his hands.

"I think you know why I'm calling, Mr. Castle" says the ominous voice of Mr. Smith.

"I, um, no? This case? Why, uh, why this case? Which case? That doesn't make any sense. Wait. Is something wrong?" Castle stutters a bit, nervously skipping between questions. Beckett pulls the car over and parks turning her full attention to the phone in Castle's hand.

"You need to stop asking questions and just do as I say." Mr. Smiths tone is harsh and succinct.

"But sir-" Castle tries to reason with him, glancing up at Beckett to see her face full of confusion. There's something else he thinks he sees, but it's dark in the car, the New York City lights shining less bright up in Harlem.

"This case, it _will_ have an easy ending, no twists. Random gang violence. An initiation ritual or something. Don't dig deeper. Just go through the motions and get the case off of her desk." Mr. Smith's tone is harsh and succinct.

"How—Wait—" Castle is still stuttering before he lands on, "Is this connected to her mother's murder?" He ends his question cautiously, face leaning down in shame but with his eyes looking up at Beckett to see her gulp in her next breath and squeeze her eyes shut, as if closing her eyes could prevent her from leaking out the truth of what she is feeling.

"Sometimes there's a bigger game, Mr. Castle. And most of it has nothing to do with you." Mr. Smith's voice sounds hollow in the background, and Castle thinks the emptiness of the room Smith must be in perfectly mirrors the emptiness of his answers.

"Like with the mayor? What the hell is going on?" Castle spits out, furious at his own inability to see the master plot. He hates the idea that he—that _they_—are side characters in some scheme they'll never be able to explain. Isn't sure which he hates more: knowing they might die or not knowing why.

Beckett turns away, both hands back on the steering wheel, clutching it tightly and clenching her jaw tight. He can tell she wants to interrupt and demand her own answers but Castle hopes the fear in his voice is enough to convince her of the need for caution. He knows her waiting only means she'll have more facts once she's ready to pounce.

"This murder is a warning. They're trying to scare her, bait her into investigating so that I can't protect her anymore. So that the file won't mean anything. You need to get her to stop, _now._"

"But stop _what_" Castle asks, starting to be exasperated and slinking away from Beckett's shocked and questioning gaze.

"Mr. Castle. What did I say about asking questions? In fact, this is the problem. You both ask too many questions. This investigation isn't a bet you want to take. You won't win. And I can't stop them if you can't stop her." With that, Mr. Smith hangs up the phone, leaving Beckett and Castle in a deadening silence, the questions still hanging off of Castle's tongue.

* * *

Castle sighs. "I'll explain."

"You'd better" Beckett quips back.

"It's serious." He won't even look at her, just locks his eyes on the space between his knees as his hands clench his thighs. He doesn't say more, so Beckett turns the key to start the car, moving back into traffic before turning right—they'll go back to her place, she decides.

The ride to Beckett's apartment remains silent, each moment that Castle won't speak throwing Beckett's mind into overdrive, running through millions of possible scenarios. But none of them make sense to her. _What kind of trouble is he in?_ She thinks. _Or, am I the one in trouble?_ She throws the car into park and Castle immediately opens the door, not wanting to spend another second in the tension the call created. But the tension doesn't dissipate in the elevator ride up and only builds with the distance.

At her door, Kate's hands shake as she slips the key into the lock, pausing before turning the bolt in an attempt to steady her hands. The faint click of the bolt appeared to pull her out of her thoughts and she glances over to Castle with a faint, nervous smile. This is what she wanted before the call, right? Maybe somehow she could make this work. She knows it is a false hope. She recognizes that the fantasies playing in her head are only an attempt to avoid the overwhelming conversation she overheard moments earlier. But she wants to live with one more second of thinking that maybe she's inviting Castle in to share a bottle of wine on her couch as they attempt to cozy up to each other.

When Castle closes the door behind her and she hears the click of the deadbolt and slide of the inside lock Kate knows she can no longer avoid the inevitable. She walks over to her kitchen counter, pulls down two wine glasses and opens a bottle, pouring two generous glasses in her last act of defiance.

* * *

"This case, it must be connected to your mom's murder," Castle starts, gladly accepting the wine if only as something to fiddle with. He doesn't know how to explain the man on the phone without it ruining their—_their what?_ Castle thinks and wills himself to continue. "That man on the phone. I don't know his name but he has called me before, after you were shot and you returned to the precinct to hunt down your sniper."

Kate's eyes widen with shock and distrust as she slowly backs away from him. "How—" she begins and then stops. "What—" she tries again and then gives up, backing against a post in the middle of her loft and starting to slowly slide her back down it as her will to stand fades away. Bent over, she places her hands on her knees to finally steady herself, still pressed against the post.

Castle takes a deep breath, running his right hand firmly through his hair and clutching the back of his neck, fingernails digging into his skin in an attempt to feel something, _anything_, knowing he was about to lose everything. Kate doesn't flinch, giving nothing away.

"He told me…" Castle's voice starts to trail off and he unconsciously holds his breath, hoping that she'd give him some indication that she was listening. His eyes are sharp, inspecting her for any movement, any softening or tensing. But all he can see is Kate taking slow and steady breaths, her back rising and falling as her palms stayed plastered to her knees, and her curled fingers attempt to hide their clench from him.

Castle gulps for air and swallows despite his mouth having lost all moisture the second his phone rang. He takes a sip of wine. Maybe he should be swallowing that instead. Somehow, he summons the courage to continue. He speaks in bursts, drawing in huge gulps of air between each phrase. "He told me Montgomery mailed him files before he went to the hanger. Before they killed him. Montgomery kept these files. To blackmail the Dragon. To protect you all. You and his family. Now this guy has them. He negotiated some sort of deal. With them."

Silence.

Castle considers his next words, not sure how much of the story to tell her even now. "That's why—" his voice croaks. "That's why they haven't tried again. Because after he called me I begged you to stop." His eyes fill with tears and nothing can stop his body from quaking as he waits for her to respond.

When she doesn't say anything, doesn't even move, he continues, desperate for her forgiveness. "I had to, Kate, I had to. I had just gotten you back and I couldn't lose you again. I had nightmares every night for months, flashbacks to that glint of light and the pop of the gun. To you, under me, leaving me. There's always so much blood in the dreams. It's everywhere and there are always people screaming but mostly I see that look in your eyes as you slipped away fro—"

"Castle," she interrupts him with a squeak. "Stop. Don't."

He continues anyway, grasping at any possibility for forgiveness. "I couldn't save you then. I couldn't jump in front of the bullet or be the surgeon pulling it from your heart. I could only watch." Rick shudders and he's speaking faster now, hoping that maybe if he gets enough of his story across before being cut off again that she'll understand why he did it. "I could only watch as the woman I—" he stutters for a second, "as _you _almost died before my eyes because I was too late, because I couldn't stop it, because I couldn't protect you. I could only watch" He finally broke, tears filling his eyes and voice cracking. He reaches out to steady himself against the wall and continues slower, quieter, almost wishing he didn't have to say what came next. "And then, for months, I couldn't even do that. I had nothing."

At that, Kate cringes. Castle knows her recovery was traumatic. He saw evidence of PTSD during the sniper case and he wishes he didn't have to bring up the pain her silence and selfish absence had caused him that summer.

"So," Castle takes a breath and continues, his voice getting a bit stronger, less shaky. "So when this guy called and told me about the deal I just—I just had to protect you this time. I had to do everything I could because Kate, I wouldn't be able to handle the loss. Not again. Not forever. Not you."

Kate shakes her head and slowly rises, her arms now crossed in front of her with her shoulders curled forward. She can't deal with the heartbreak in his voice so she chooses anger. Her breath changes, now seething. "So you _protected me_ by keeping all of this from me. By lying and keeping me from investigating the most important thing in my life" her voice was cutting as she snarled and spit the word 'protected.'

"Yes. Because—"

"Did you even _think,_" her venomous words continue, "that hiding this from me, stopping the investigation, might keep me vulnerable and get me killed? This blackmail, these files—it will never stop them. It just prolongs the inevitable. And you kept me blind when they know right where to find me." Her words are getting faster, her anger only rising at her own perceived vulnerability. "I could have been investigating in secret this whole time and _I_ would have been in control now. You took that from me—you _stole_ that from me."

"No, no," Rick shakes his head, and he starts towards her. His face contorts when she straightens and steps back, warning him not to come near. "You have never been in control, Kate." If anything were to make her angrier this was it, but he continued anyway. "They have only let you think you are in control, bu—"

"I could have found the file. Exposed all of this. Instead you—"

"You think you could have stopped them with your detection skills? These people are powerful and—"

"And you're handing them even more power by blinding me to what is going on. This has been going on for what, almost an entire year now. They were 19 years ahead of me and you just gave them another year, another year so they could run away so far I would never catch up."

"They're not running away from you. They're running right at you, weapons drawn. You don't understand—"

"I don't understand?" Kate scoffs. "Fine. Then you're going to tell me everything you know and then leave. Get out of my apartment and stop making decisions about _my_ life." With that, Kate stands up fully, finding power in her venomous words, and stalks over to her desk to get a pad of paper. She picks it up and turns back, throwing it at Castle. "Write it all down. _Make_ me understand. And then get the hell out of my life."

Castle barely catches the notebook as the pages flutter towards his face. But instead of doing as he's told, he drops the notebook to the floor and returns Kate's anger.

"Why Montgomery?" Castle is yelling now too, getting more out of control as he flails his arms and paces ferociously back and forth across her loft. "You were so quick to forgive him. He did the same thing, Kate. He owned this blackmail. The files were his. Hell, he was _involved_ in what happened. He knew all along, the whole time. He lied to you for years and said he was protecting you. He even knew his name—the man who killed your mother. He _knew_ and never told you."

His voice suddenly gets quiet, as he considers the question for himself. "Yet you were so quick to forgive him. I heard you at the hanger, you said it twice: 'I forgive you.' Why him and not me?" His pacing picks up and he starts yelling again, "Why, Kate, why forgive Montgomery and not me? Why listen to him, and not me? Just—why not _me_" his desperation is clearly betrayed by his voice.

Kate's fury mirrors his at the other end of the room and after his angry monologue she answers without pause, her voice raised an octave and her hands mirroring her uncontrolled emotions. "Because I wasn't in love with him."


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** Sorry about re-posting the edited first chapter. I'm new to writing (first fiction ever!) and hope it didn't email everyone who is following me when I updated the new version.

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* * *

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"Because I wasn't in love with him." Kate practically spits out and then both of them stop moving, breathing even, her words echoing through their silence.

After an excruciating few seconds, Castle turns towards her, sees her jaw drop and eyes open wide in shock before she covers them with her hand and shakily sinks on her couch. Kate's lips move and her head jerks forward as if trying to speak—or maybe unspeak what she just admitted. She uncovers her eyes to reveal the overwhelming emotion stifling her speech.

"Uhm." She bites her lip and leans back taking a few quick deep breaths, an awful attempt at appearing open and calm because she knows Castle can see her breath is still far to high in her chest, and her hands rub firmly up and down her thighs before she clasps them together and wrenches them against each other. Her eyes implore him to—do what? She's not even sure herself.

Finally, she speaks again, her voice now soft and insecure. "Will you come here? Sit, maybe? I—there's—let me—."

She gives up her feeble attempt at communication with a tiny exasperated sigh and now it's Kate's turn to hold her breath as Castle makes up his mind. The whirl of emotions and thoughts spinning wildly in his brain is made manifest as his head bobs and shakes, his eyes unable to rest in his sockets. She would have laughed and teased him about his resemblance to a bobble-head toy but now is not the time. So she just silently begs with her eyes.

Finally, Castle sits. He leaves ample distance between himself and Kate, shock and distrust written across his face. Kate's clasped hands move up to her chin and she leans her head on them while covering her mouth, another sign of her trying to reel in her vulnerability and steal back the control neither of them hold any longer.

She doesn't know what to say, can't comprehend how she could have possibly said _that_. Especially now. After Jacinda. But she hurled herself off this cliff in a moment of frustration and she feels she owes him something, especially since she can't help but hope he'll follow. She doesn't know how to explain without telling him too much, without the fear coming back and crippling her. She wracks her brain for anything Dr. Burke told her but his advice was always too hard to follow; it would make her too vulnerable.

Her silence must be making Castle uncomfortable, Beckett realizes as she sees him shift awkwardly on her she skips over her inadvertent confession and switches the subject back to the mystery man and telephone call. "It was easier to forgive Montgomery, I'm sorry it just was. I was desperate to learn the truth and I thought he would only tell me if I offered redemption." She pauses and takes a deep breath before continuing, "And I got used to you being on my team, being at my side, so to find out you hid all of this from me, that you basically shot out my knees from underneath me, I just…"

"Wait. No. Go back a minute. You just said, I mean, you implied that maybe—"

"Castle," she interrupts quickly before he can say the words. "I can't talk about that now. We will, later, I promise just not now." She looks at him with imploring eyes and continues, "we have this new case, we have to figure out what the hell to do about that phone call and it's late."

"There's always a case" he replies, forlorn.

Kate bites the inside of her cheek giving herself time to figure out what she can say to put this conversation off just a little bit longer. She's not ready yet and this is not the right time but she just said she was kicking him out of her life and she doesn't want that, either. If only she didn't have PTSD, she thought, she would be able to navigate all of this better. She just doesn't have the strength to deal with all the flashbacks tonight so he hopes she can distract him with this new case and mystery caller.

"There won't be," she states assertively. "I'll make time—we'll make time. Just, not right now. Right now we need to talk about that call and this case."

"And I'm still on your team, right? Still beside you? Because Kate—"

"Yes, Castle." She cuts him off quickly before he can plead his case. "Just tell me everything you know."

"Actually," Castle squirms a bit in his seat, "that's basically all I know. That Montgomery sent him a file to blackmail whoever is after you and protect you and his family. I don't know anything about this guy, he just called to tell me about the deal and then again during the mayor's case he said if I needed help I could go to him. He helped me figure out where the evidence was hidden because _a well placed pawn is sometimes better than a queen_."

"Those were his exact words?"

"Yes, I think he knew I'd get kicked out of the precinct if the mayor was arrested and if that happened you might investigate your mother's murder again."

"So you don't think the case had anything to do with her killer?"

"I don't know. He didn't say. He just told me to call if I needed help, then we met—"

"Wait, you met with him? Alone?" She saw Castle nod. "What the hell were you thinking? He could be a part of this. He could have killed you! Castle, you can't just run off and try to play hero all the goddamned time."

"Stop. Just, I'm telling you everything I know. Save your speeches." Castle retorts, a bit of anger seeping into his words. "I was trying to protect you. And anyway, we met and all he told me was to listen to the evidence and the thing about the well-placed pawn."

"And then you haven't heard from him since?" She quells her emotion and starts questioning Castle as if he were a suspect in the interrogation room, her voice sharp and biting. Castle winces at her question but answered it anyway.

"Not until tonight."

"And his number, have you tried to trace it?"

"Yes, but only myself. I couldn't. I don't think he would use a number that could be traced anyway. He's too careful."

The apartment is thrown into silence again as they both contemplated what to do next.

"So am I in danger now?" Asks Kate, not with fear in her voice but an eerie calm, just trying to get the facts straight.

"I don't think so. He said you just needed to push off the case, right?"

"I can't do that. I won't do that."

"What? Why? Have you not heard anything I've said?" Castle's voice started to rise.

"I heard you, but that's exactly what Raglan did with my mother's case. Maybe he got a phone call just like this one. I couldn't do that to anyone else."

"Look, we barely know anything about the case. Let's just see what comes up tomorrow" Castle replies.

"You think you'll be able to convince me tomorrow?"

The look on Castle's face tells Kate she recognized his strategy. "I hope so. But if I don't, we're still partners?"

"Yea." Kate replies softly, reaching for his hand to help him up of the couch and lead him to the door. "Partners."

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* * *

.

The next morning Castle met Beckett with a cup of coffee just as she was on her way to the morgue. Castle could see how much she needed it, with her eyes sunken back and makeup barely able to cover the dark circles underneath. But this was his first coffee 'peace offering' since he heard she lied, and it seemed to cheer her up more than usual.

"Thanks, Castle" Beckett said brightly with a small smile. "I was just going to update the team." Beckett turns to the murder board and gives out the pertinent details, "Victim's name is Djani Kayembe, 36, here on a tourist visa from the Democratic Republic of Congo. She arrived three days ago and had my information in her wallet. Nothing seemed out of place at the scene. Her purse fell on the ground next to her during the attack and a few things fell out but it doesn't look like anything was taken but she had no hotel keycard or keys."

"So it wasn't a robbery," Esposito jumps in.

"Looks like it could have been gang violence to me" Castle adds and gets a glare from Beckett.

"If she wasn't staying at a hotel maybe she knew people here," adds Ryan. "I'll see if I can get immigration to send over that slip you fill out, usually you have to list a hotel or contact person when you arrive."

"Good. Espo, you still have contacts in the gang unit, see if there's any buzz about last night."

"Got it."

Beckett's phone buzzed and she looked down at the text. "And I'm off to the new M.E.'s office. You coming, Castle?"

"Of course."

As they walked toward the elevator Beckett asks, "What was his name, anyway? Do you remember from the scene?"

"No, I'm not sure he ever told us. Not a real people-person, even less than Perlmutter. If I were to name him—"

"Castle, this isn't a book. You can't just give the M.E. a new name." Beckett laughs, but Castle can tell she's curious with what he'd come up with because her eyes shine a bit brighter and she squints her eyes as she looks at him.

"No, but just between us. Let's see. He mumbles a lot. Oh! That's it, we can call him Mal – Mumbles – A – Lot."

"You know," responds Beckett with a dry tone, "I think it's probably best to just ask him."

.

* * *

.

The M.E. sees the pair enter the morgue and shudders a bit. He doesn't like people, let alone new people, all up in his space. So instead of acknowledging them he just mumbles his prognosis and hopes they leave quickly. He doesn't like questions.

"The victim was shot and then stabbed. Shot near the heart and then stabbed thirteen times, randomly. Time of death between 10 and 10:15. I'd say this is a random incident, and given the neighborhood probably gang-related. Maybe an initiation."

Beckett looks to Castle, a flicker of recognition in her face.

"You're telling me that based on the fact this victim was shot and stabbed that it's a random, gang-related incident?"

"Yes. That's all I have." _Now get out of my morgue_, he thinks.

"Are there any indications that it wasn't gang related?" Asks Beckett, her curiosity peaking while Castle glares at her.

"Detective." The M.E. responds, still looking at the body. "I'm busy, and this looks like a random incident. It wasn't a robbery so my guess is gang related. Let's just write it off and get her off my table." With that, the M.E. walks away, leaving Beckett and Castle with confused faces and unanswered questions.

But his hearing is good and while he watches them walk away through a mirror on the alternate wall the M.E. can hear Beckett whisper to Castle, "He's in on it."

.

* * *

.

**A/N:** I know this is a short chapter, but I hope it alludes to more that will be brought out through the case and as Castle and Beckett get together. Stick with it—and trust me, their fight and explanation time is not over! I'm now more in awe of fiction writers after attempting this. I hope it's at least enjoyable to read.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Any feedback is much appreciated. I'm new to this so I'd love to hear if the story is staying intriguing or if my writing has too many details (or too few), or if the case seems too random to keep your attention. I feel like I (maybe too) often say the characters are "confused" but I'm new at this and new at trying to figure out how to make a case twisty enough by the end that it keeps you reading but still makes sense if you think back to the beginning. I know there haven't been major twists yet, but any comment or advice is welcome!**

**This chapter contains the first half of one of the two scenes that I'm really writing this fic for-ways I wish the show producers had done 'Always' differently. I'm curious to see what people think of my reason for Beckett keeping her secret from Castle. To me watching the show, her reasons seemed almost too weak for such a strong character, so I wanted to provide more context. Hope you enjoy!  
**

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* * *

.

"No, I'm not 'overanalyzing this' Castle" spews Beckett in the car ride back to the precinct, throwing his words right back at him. "He must be in on it. That has to be why he gave us the same line as your mystery man."

"Even so, the 'mystery man' said you're only protected if you let this one go. Just don't investigate. Just this once," Castle pleads, desperation showing through his words as they reach a fuming Beckett. "Look, there's no evidence we've found that this _wasn't _a random gang-related affair. Why can't you just go with it on this one?"

"Because we know it's not true. It can't be if they're telling us not to dig deep. This might be my chance, Castle. This is what I do; it's who I am. I investigate things."

"This isn't about your job. They're going to kil-" Castle attempts to interject but he's interrupted again by Beckett.

"If I solve this murder I'll solve my mother's murder. They must be connected somehow," Beckett starts musing. "All we have to do is find that connection and this can all be over."

"They're going to kill you, Kate." Castle tries again.

"And if they do, whose fault will that be?" Beckett bites back, shocking Castle.

"You're not suggesting mine?"

"You _hid _this information from me. I could have been investigating this whole time and I would have known so much more. I'm going into this blind and that's _your fault_" Beckett spits out, still feeling the anger from the night before.

Castle doesn't take the bait. "They would have just killed you back in September," he retorts. "You can't win this one. Even Montgomery told you that."

"Oh, so you're bringing Montgomery back into this? Hoping that I'll listen to a ghost? Jealous?"

"First, that's not fair. Second, yes, I'm hoping." _And yes, I'm jealous_, he thinks. "I'm hoping you'll listen to _anyone._ Why are you so quick to throw your life away?"

"That's just it. It's my life Castle, not yours. You can't just keep me around to provide fodder for your books. It's not enough."

"What?" Castle breaths the word in quickly, shocked, and responds with his voice raised. "If you think so little of me, maybe—"

"Save it Castle," Beckett seethes. "I'm investigating this murder and you can either come with me or get out of my damn way." At this, she slams the car in park and hastily exits the car, Castle barely managing to jump in the elevator up to the homicide floor.

The elevator ride is silent apart from Castle's whispered admission, so low he's not even sure Beckett can hear, "You know I can't help but follow."

.

* * *

.

Back at the precinct, Colin Hunt walks up to talk to Beckett. "I have an arrest warrant from London for Mr. Wyndham. Want to join for the arrest?"

"No," replies Beckett, distracted. "I already have another case I'm working on."

"Okay. You know, they have uncovered quite a lot about Nigel's operations, I would have thought you'd like to see the man in cuffs."

"Sorry." Beckett's response was short but then she turns back to add, "Thanks for your help on that case. I'm sorry to be so quick to leave but this new murder is demanding a lot of my attention."

"Well, it was a pleasure to meet you, Detective Beckett." Hunt grins and reaches to shake Beckett's hand while giving Castle a curious look.

"Likewise, Inspector Hunt."

Handshake over, Beckett turns away without a thought and sends off a text message. She goes to check on what new information Esposito or Ryan have acquired on the victim, Djani Kayembe. Finding Esposito, he informs the team that the gang unit hadn't heard any whispers of activity but he's also unsure they'd give anything up for an isolated, random murder when they were attempting to make bigger cases amongst higher up people. "Sorry, Beckett, but if it was an initiation, those kids are too far down on the totem pole to risk anyone's cover."

"Ryan?" She asks, her voice hinting at desperation.

"She was in town for an upcoming peace conference being held at the United Nations. The contact information she gave was for the director of the conference. Djani was an invited guest but the director, Ann Ladsu, didn't know her personally and hadn't seen her since she arrived. The conference is supposed to start Thursday, in two days. We still have no idea where she was staying. She doesn't appear to have a credit card, so we can't track her financials. I bet she flew with cash and exchanged money at the airport."

"So, we're out of leads now?" Asks Castle cautiously, still hoping to steer Beckett towards giving up the investigation.

"We have a lot of leads, they're just all in the form of questions right now." Beckett immediately responds. "We know time of death, and when CSU canvassed the area there didn't appear to be any witnesses. New York City is always crowded so why? We know the victim got here three days ago yet had my information in her pocket, why? We know the victim didn't have many contacts here so why would anyone kill her? Why was it a shooting and a stabbing?"

"But no physical evidence of a suspect, no idea what connections she might have to anyone here and nobody we know of that knows her at all."

Beckett glares at Castle. "It's not like our M.E. Mr. "Mal" is looking very hard. But I'm getting that covered." Castle looks confused for a second before Beckett's cellphone buzzes for an incoming text.

"Come on, we're going to the morgue."

"Wait, has the M.E. asked us back?" Castle asks once they're on the elevator.

"Not exactly. But, I'm hoping to spot something anyway" replies Beckett as she evades Castle's question.

As they get in the car Castle fiercely whispers at Beckett, "You know that once you walk into that morgue again all bets are off. They're going to know that you are investigating this case closely."

"Yes, Castle. And maybe they'll get scared, flinch, make a mistake."

"You're kidding, right?" Castle shakes his head. "These people don't _make _mistakes."

"And how would you know? Do you know who they are? All I know is that if I keep going after them, if I keep circling around their house of constructed lies, at some point I'm going to be able to see inside. As I said before, you're either with me or you need to get out of my way."

.

* * *

.

He can hear them walk into the room and he ducks out of the way, not wanting to answer any more annoying questions from that detective or—even worse—the writer. But this time, there are three of them and he pauses to listen in.

"Doesn't look like he's here" comes the voice of Beckett. He finds a spot where he can see them yet is thoroughly hidden.

"Who was the M.E. on the case?" Asks a mystery third woman.

"Don't remember his name. Not sure he ever said, actually" replies Beckett.

"We call him Mal" Castle starts to add, as Beckett rolls her eyes and cuts him off with a quick hand gesture.

The third person just ignores Castle and asks, "where's the body?"

"Right here, Lanie." There's a pause as the three walk over and uncover the corpse. Beckett speaks again. "Anything you can tell us would be great. The M.E. here seemed to quick to say it was gang violence and we need some sort of lead." _Ugh, that annoying bitch! Brought in her own M.E., _thinks Mal, still in his hiding place as he thumb-types an email on his blackberry.

"Well, the bullet was fired first, since there's a stab wound right into the bullet wound. Looks like a sniper bullet to me, given the depth of impact I would guess a mid-range shot," the third voice—must be Lanie—says, as the woman gives Beckett a look of sympathy. "The 13 stab wounds weren't postmortem, though, they're what ended up killing the victim. Or, more likely, they added to the injuries but without immediate attention the victim would have likely died anyway."

"So the victim was shot from a long distance and _then_ someone from a short distance stabbed her?" Adds the annoying writer, Castle, his voice incredulous. "And the psychology is all off. A killer who wants anonymity and distance from the victim and someone who wants to kill up close and gruesome? That doesn't make any sense."

"No sense as a gang-related incident, you mean," bites back Beckett. "Gangs don't use long-range riffles. This was premeditated. Planned. Maybe professional. It's almost like…" Beckett trails off.

Castle quietly adds what it appears neither Lanie nor Beckett will, "a mixture of your mom's death and your own. Doubly contract killed."

"But she's not connected with anything I know about the case. This doesn't fit. Why her?" Beckett asks, not likely expecting an answer. "Do you think there's more evidence that may have been overlooked?"

"I'd have to take the body back to my morgue for closer inspection. It sure seems like there might be but honestly, Kate, I can't just steal another M.E.'s body. And even if I could, any of the evidence I will have gotten then will be tainted and we wouldn't be able to use it in court."

"Right." Agrees Beckett. "But do you think we can come up with enough evidence of M.E. neglect to get the body transferred to you?"

"Kate, honey," Lanie says to a glare from Beckett. "I know you want to solve this but it seems you're only finding dead-end leads. This is an unknown victim who hasn't even been here long and—"

"But we _know_ that she's connected somehow," responds Beckett vehemently.

"Actually," adds Castle. "We don't know that. All we know is that someone wants this buried. Maybe it doesn't actually have to do with your mother's murder."

"Then why would they be using Mr. Mystery Man to threaten me?" asks Beckett.

"I don't know, maybe they just want to test their control." Castle sounds exasperated now. "There are no leads, the story doesn't make sense. Maybe there's something else going on here entirely. A bigger picture we don't even know about."

"Then we're going to find out what it is," replies Beckett, curtly. Just then her phone rings.

"Beckett." A pause. "Yes, sir, but that's not something—" she stops talking as she was cut off by the person on the phone. "But—" Cut off again. _Ah_, the M.E. thinks, _I like whoever is on the phone. Gets her to shut up_.

"What?!" Beckett looks up in a panic, her eyes immediately finding Castle's. "Only mine?" She pauses again and her hand starts to shake before she uses the autopsy table to stabilize herself. "Do they know who did it?"

By now, the other two are looking to Beckett in concern, thoroughly confused.

_Ah, my email_, thinks the M.E. _I wonder what they did_. He can't help but take some joy out of seeing this unfold. Normally detectives act too high-and-mighty, always making demands and asking too many irrelevant questions. He's never gotten front-row seats to a take-down before.

When Beckett speaks again it's more softly, her eyes catching Castle's before looking timidly away. "Yes, sir. I, uhm, I'm going to need the afternoon off." She doesn't have to wait long before she ends the call with a short, "Thank you, sir."

After she hangs up, she sets the phone in her pocket and covers her face with both hands, slowly pulling them through her hair, her gaze staying on the floor. Neither of the other two move, seemingly content to wait her out.

"That was Gates. Some files were stolen." She pauses without elaboration.

Meeting silence she continues, "I've been, uh, I've been seeing a therapist, since the shooting." Her voice is now quivering. "Dr. Burke. And my patient files from him were stolen. All the notes on me from our meetings. Gates doesn't know by whom but mine were the only ones taken."

Both Lanie and Castle look shocked at this information (shocked that she's seeing a therapist or shocked that the files were stolen, Mal doesn't know) and Beckett still hasn't raised her eyes to either of them yet.

"Lanie, I'm sorry I'm going to have to leave now. And Castle" she finally looks up at him, tears glistening in her eyes, "we're going to have to talk. I think you're in danger."

.

* * *

.

They're at her apartment again. Castle had started making coffee right away and Kate was glad for the distraction and warmth the cup offered her. She had slipped in her door and immediately collapsed on her couch, dreary eyes numbly staring through the world. Now that Castle has joined her the silence is deadening, reminding her of the other night and she wishes she had had the courage to tell him then, before she was also telling him he might be under threat.

She can't look him in the eye—wont, for this conversation—so her eyes finally rest on a black speck on the floor, glazing over in an attempt to numb the world as she gathers the strength to explain.

"I know you're going to have a lot of questions. I figure I'll start with what those files might say. They might have stolen them to find something to use against me and if they did… you..." Kate can't even finish the sentence. She pauses again, tracing the rim of her coffee mug with her finger for what she wishes could be an eternity.

.

* * *

.

Castle tries his best to not fidget as he sits on the couch waiting. He doesn't know if his heart is pounding more from fear or hope, but it's probably a bit of both. Instead of trying to catch her eye, he watches her finger slowly slide along the lip of her mug as she finds the courage to continue.

"After—" Kate's voice is already breaking and she tries to start over. "That day. That day torments me." Whatever she said she doesn't like and she shakes her head, clearing the words as if sound is an etch-a-sketch and starts over yet again, this time in low whispers as tears pool in her eyes.

"Your words were the only thing that kept me alive. That day, in the cemetery." She looks up at him, searching for understanding and he realizes which words she meant. She must be able to see because her eyes quickly leave his to find her speck on the floor and she continues without repeating them. "I fought to live so that I could—. So I could respond. So you would know." Her voice trembles and when he looks up from her coffee mug to see her whole body convulsing his heart breaks for her just a little more.

With a hitch in his breath he timidly reaches out to lightly place his hand on her knee, trying to send some of his strength through their connection. The breath she was still holding high in her chest whooshes out and she grabs his hand with both of hers, his touch bestowing the courage to turn towards him, still with her eyes down but now resting on a nonexistent point somewhere in the space between them.

"This is going to sound crazy." Kate lets out a breathy nervous laugh and continues. "I am crazy; I've been seeing a therapist, Dr. Burke..." she trails off, running one of her hands through her hair messily. Castle shifts towards her, using his posture to urge her to continue.

"I still have flashbacks to that day," she says and Castle nods, remembering the paper doll sniper case. "And in those flashbacks, I don't only remember it, I experience everything all again. I feel the burn of the bullet." Kate's hand moves from her hair to her chest, pressing hard where the bullet landed like she is trying to hold the blood in even now.

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* * *

.

"Sometimes I can hear the screams in the air. But mostly—" she forces herself to search for his eyes, just for a second to reaffirm this is all still happening. "It starts with the impact and sometimes I can't separate the impact of the bullet from feeling you pull me down. And right when I look into your eyes I start to feel the burn." Her eyes close and she shakes her head, willing herself to open her eyes and experience the present instead of the pain of the past. It's something Dr. Burke has worked with her on, talking about getting shot instead of reliving it every time. But she is sucked away into the moment at the cemetery until she feels Castle squeeze her knee and slip his thumb on top of the hand of hers that's still holding his.

"I can barely hear your words through the burn. God, Castle, it really feels like my heart exploded somehow. And I know that I could just give up. At times, even in my flashbacks I just wish I could let myself go, but when I hear what you say" Kate skips the actual words, "I fight to live just so that I can respond." There are tears streaming down her cheeks now and her body is reeling from reliving the pain of the bullet yet again.

"Castle, I lived because I couldn't bear to die without you knowing how I feel about you. And every time I experience the same scene, I will myself to live again."

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* * *

.

"Oh, Kate" Castle practically coos at her, his body being drawn closer to her, wanting only to pull her in and hold her close. He wants to take the hand that is pressing into her chest away, show her the bullet is only in her imagination now. But once he makes his move, she shakes her head and inches away, needing more distance to keep going.

"I kept telling myself that I needed to hold on for just a little bit longer, just until I could speak. Then I could let go and give into the burn."

"No, Kate, no, no—" Castle starts but Kate cuts him off.

"But then somehow, once I woke up in that hospital bed, and once I could actually talk, I couldn't say anything because I was afraid that once I said the words there would be no reason for my body to fight anymore and it would give in to that bullet. Even now, with my scars healing, every time I try to tell you, every time I feel the way I do for you, it takes me back to that day and I feel that same pain and use the same excuse to will myself to keep moving forward. It's like my brain and my heart just _know_ that once I give in to whatever it is that we might be, there won't be anything left unfinished. There won't be anything left that I need to say before I die. And so I will."

She pauses, takes a breath and swallows. Tears keep streaming down her face and she makes no attempt to wipe them away.

Castle feels her pain in his own heart and he brings his other hand to join where Kate is holding his. He caresses her hands, tracing her fingers lightly and softly, hesitantly asks, "So I trigger your PTSD?"

The pain visibly contorts her face and he knows the answer is yes. "This is why I've been working with Dr. Burke. Why I couldn't call you or see you all summer. I needed to stop reliving that pain every time I thought of you. And I know, rationally, that I won't die once I say those words, or once I feel, uh, anything. But, somehow—" not knowing how to explain she instead lets out a shaky sob. "It's like that bullet convinced me that leaving things unsaid, unfinished between us was the only thing keeping me alive, keeping my own story going."

Now Castle starts to slowly speak, breathy and a bit unsure and then incredulous, trying to make sense of what she's telling him. "So you're afraid that once you tell me, uh, how you feel, it'll be closure enough for fate. And then, what, the bullet will just appear back in your chest and kill you?"

Kate lips curl up in a tiny smile. "When you say it like that, I really do sound crazy."

"All this time you've tried to convince me you don't believe in magic, fate and ghosts, yet somehow you believe in imaginary demons that will materialize a bullet in your chest if you say three words?" There's a slight tease to Castle's voice. He's trying to lighten the mood a bit to help them both through this.

She lets out a chuckle, not a happy one but glad for the release. "Not rational, I know, but that doesn't make the fear less paralyzing. And it's not just about saying the words, it's… more." She looks away desperately and the room falls back into silence.

Castle continues caressing her hand, not sure now if he should reach out and draw her into a hug or if that might set off a flashback. Kate's other hand is still pressing into her chest and he realizes she _is_ trying to hold the blood in. With that thought, he can't stay still and he reaches for the hand on her chest. Instead of pulling hers away he adds his, his eyes silently telling her that together they'll keep in the blood. Together, they'll keep her from falling apart.

After a time, Kate's hand relaxes and Castle moves his thumb to caress where the thinks the bullet's scar might be. He thinks his own heart can feel the burn of hers, as if his simple touch carried the symptoms across to his own flesh and he carefully takes her hand from her chest and places it on his, intertwining their fingers.

"We're in this together, now." He starts softly and his eyes try to find hers through her tears. He hopes she knows what he means by his action, that he's sharing her pain now, too.

"Where do we go from here?"

.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Hi all, as I continue my story I'd love to find a good beta reader, mostly a writer to run through some ideas with and make sure the story doesn't get too cheesy as I add in some romance and mix it with the mystery. I find myself writing these characters into corners a lot (how does Marlowe keep them out of their apartments!) and want this to be entertaining and fun to read. Any suggestions or volunteers are much appreciated. This is my first time writing fiction or fanfic so I'm learning a lot as I go!**

**Hope you enjoy.**

.

* * *

_._

_Castle continues caressing her hand, not sure now if he should reach out and draw her into a hug or if that might set off a flashback. Kate's other hand is still pressing into her chest and he realizes she is trying to hold the blood in. With that thought, he can't stay still and he reaches for the hand on her chest but instead of pulling hers away he adds his, his eyes silently telling her that together they'll keep in the blood. Together, they'll keep her from falling apart._

_After a time, Kate's hand relaxes and Castle moves his thumb to caress where the thinks the bullet's scar might be. He thinks his own heart can feel the burn of hers, as if his simple touch carried the symptoms across to his own flesh and he carefully takes her hand from her chest and places it on his, intertwining their fingers._

"_We're in this together, now." He starts softly and her eyes try to find his through her tears._

"_Where do we go from here?"_

Kate leans into Castle, following their joined hands as she inhales in an attempt to extinguish the fire still blazing in her chest. She's having difficulty distinguishing the ghosting scorch of the bullet from the irregular pounding of her heart, or the ache of longing from her crushing fear. Every inch forward draws her further from this moment and back to that cemetery, yet the magnetic pull between them is too strong to deny.

She can barely hear him ask through the haze of ache, lightheadedness and desire. She realizes her mouth has gone dry when she tries to move her tongue to form some semblance of a response. She doesn't want to strategize and plan. She doesn't want to find her way forward but just live in this moment—however painful—for a little bit longer. So she waits.

He seems to take her inability to vocalize anything as a response in itself and instead of conversing further he slips his left hand from her knee and brings it up to caress her cheek. She smiles. Her eyes flutter back down to where theirs are still joined on his chest. And she wishes she could give into their mutual longing.

But when he places an errant wisp of hair behind her ear and his fingers graze her neck her mind is wrenched back to the cemetery. The blue sky frames the fear in his eyes and she feels his hand behind her neck holding her head up off the grass. She lets out a mangled cry, endures the impact yet again, but this time instead of falling into the grass she forces her body forward, tackling Castle in a fierce hug.

"Do you feel it, too?" she whispers softly, her arms still wrapped tightly around Castle. She can't let go because she needs the pressure and, however irrationally, still believes her heart might slip through her scar if she meets his eyes.

"Yeah. I think I do."

* * *

They stay clasped together in silence for a while, Kate thankful for the pressure and Castle never wanting to let her go. He doesn't know what to do and his mind is whirring almost as fast as his heart is beating—trying to envision the perfect maneuvering through this. But he's too afraid of pushing her too far so he just roots himself to the ground he's already won and holds tight.

Kate brings one hand up to cradle Castle's head and softly runs her fingers through his hair while he slips one hand down to rest on her waist. His pinky finger meets the bottom hem of her shirt and it's all he can do not to slip his hand underneath and slide his thumb along her stomach. She tilts her head down, lips just barely brushing against the side of his neck and he tries to hide his shudder in response. They're still performing this dance around each other, this time in tantalizingly close proximity and with everything to lose from one misstep.

Kate lets out a sigh as she eventually moves out of their embrace. She sits turned towards him and leans against the back of the couch, tucking her feet underneath her but allowing her knees to fall into Castle's lap. Within seconds one of his hands finds hers again and they gently link together, Castle not willing or unable to give up a physical connection between them.

"I think you could be in danger," Kate says after she wipes the remnants of tears from under each of her eyes and quietly clears her throat. "If these people stole the files than they know all of this, they'll know all of my triggers and they could probably figure out that you— that if they got to you I would be—"

"Kate, hon—" Castle catches his mistake too late, still overwhelmed and concerned with protecting her not escaping his own potential danger.

"What, _kitten_?" she shoots back, reveling in the familiar ground of their banter.

"We'll figure this out. We always do." He sounds more confident than he is but his eyes are brimming with hope and Kate can't help be at least a little persuaded by them.

"Well, we have to figure out our plan before they execute theirs."

"We can't act out of fear we just have to figure out the best way to keep you" he corrects himself when he sees her glare, "keep all of us, safe. Maybe even if it's not solving your mom's murder—yet." He adds the 'yet' to his statement and flinches, expecting a quick and severe backlash. Instead, he sees her nod, eyes flitting back and forth as if seeing the cases all laid out before her.

"I don't see how we can stop any of this without solving the case" she says finally. "I know—I know you think that this deal will work but Castle, don't you see how it's only keeping me in some type of purgatory until they decide whatever is in that file doesn't matter anymore?"

"Or until they find the file." Castle continues as they start to find their rhythm again.

"So we have to solve this case—"

"Or find the file ourselves."

"Finding the file would solve the case." She says flatly. "You said you didn't know anything about Mr. Mystery Man? You can't tell me any more than you already know?"

"No, I think I told you everything."

"Then that's a dead end. We have to solve the case in front of us, the one they're trying to get us to hide."

"But there are no leads there and nothing from that case seems connected to anything we know—or anything at all, for that matter."

"There are no leads for either of them but we have to start somewhere" Kate responds, clearly getting more agitated. "They're going to expect us to go after the Djani case. They'll expect that we'll run right into whatever trap they'll put up for us in case we go after it."

"So we should start with trying to find Mr. Mystery Man" Castle concludes.

"Seems like the logical first step. We can make it appear as if we're letting that one go after the scare with the stolen files"

"And go try to steal our own files."

"But even if we knew who this Mr. Mystery Man is, why would he give us the files? Why wouldn't he just do that right away, anyway?" asks Kate.

"He wouldn't. You're right. He's keeping them from us, too, for some reason. He won't just give them up if we ask."

"So…" says Kate, not willing to actually say it but hoping Castle is on the same brain wavelength.

"So we have to find Mr. Mystery Man and kidnap him."

"Woah, Castle. Hold back on your David Bowie impressions. I think that's a little drastic."

"But Kate, you remind me of the babe."

"I'm not even going to ask," says Kate, rolling her eyes.

* * *

They fall back into a silence, each attempting to contemplate their options despite the tense air between them. For months after her shooting Kate numbed herself, attempting to feel nothing so she could forget all the pain. And now her heart was overloaded from her confessions and newly realized proximity to Castle. But now she didn't want to escape, just find something to anchor her to the present.

She's starting to think that maybe Dr. Burke was right, that she needed to confront her triggers in order to overcome her PTSD. She had been too afraid of letting Castle in on her healing process, hoping she could just heal by herself as he waited and that maybe he'd never have to know how broken she was from that day. So, she used her secret to hide from him. And now, despite the flashbacks and the pain and everything she had just experienced, she realizes the hiding was holding her back. Her perceived safety was actually making her heart more vulnerable and telling him made things seem so much clearer in her head.

"Secrets," she mused aloud.

"Huh?"

"All of this, all of this danger is because whoever is behind this is trying to hide behind a secret and is now afraid we're getting too close."

"Right" says Castle.

"So maybe instead of hiding what we know we need to fight back—"

"By making everything public," continues Castle, starting to catch on and finishing her sentence for her.

"Right, and we can't just let some people know because that would put them in danger too. We have to try to get everything out there, all at once, to as many people as possible so they know we have nothing left that we're hiding."

"And anything they try to do against us will keep people interested in what we were investigating—"

"So they wouldn't risk it." Confirms Kate, "Well, they might. But, might it be worth a shot?"

"Maybe," Castle starts with an idea, his excitement showing through as he leans into Kate and wraps her knees in his remaining arm. "Maybe we can have this all get publicity through Nikki Heat. You know? Get readers to solve a real murder with the real Nikki."

"Castle, I am _not _Nikki," Kate attempts to interject before being cut off by Castle's excitement.

"Right, but, if we make this a publicity ploy for the Nikki Heat books we can get more out there. We could set up a website with everything we know so far and turn it into some kind of game. I already have most of it on my murder board."

Kate gives Castle her _look_ but ignores the murder board comment moving right along to, "and as we have new updates on the case, we can put them online or tweet them—"

"I bet I could even get us a couple last-minute TV interviews. You've been out of the limelight with Nikki Heat so the more you're out there the more people are going to just eat it all up." Kate ignores this latest comment as well.

"We can have everything on my mom's murder and my shooting, and also try to see if we can find Mr. Mystery Man through this process, maybe someone will have a tip."

"Ah, right, and then kidnap him."

"No kidnapping. But maybe he'll be more likely to give us the files if he thinks this will end it all."

"So, does this mean you'll role-play as Nikki Heat throughout this process?" asks Castle with a twinkle in his eye and a wiggling of his eyebrows. "I have the perfect tight, black leather pants for you to wear."

"I thought you wanted me to be the 'real Nikki,' _Mr. Rook_," Kate counters with a smile and quick bite to her bottom lip. She leans in to run a finger from his temple across his cheek and to his chin before joining her hand with his again.

"I—uh—yea—of course," stammers out Castle, suddenly sure Kate turned the tables of his flirting against him and wanting desperately to flip them back. Instead he backs off, not wanting to push her too hard tonight.

"So why don't we work on our story for a bit, instead."

.

* * *

_Thoughts?_


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N:** This gets at another one of those "why did the show do this" moments for me. Beckett could have likely chosen between finding out who killed her mother and protecting Montgomery's family from knowing what happened and it seemed a bit weird to me that she chose Montgomery when she was so worried about not having any more leads. Maybe noble, but a little strange, no?

**Thanks to my new beta, LFVoy!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Castle. If I did, I would be writing a dissertation to give me a break from (ahem, procrastinate) writing about Castle. But alas, it's the other way around.**

* * *

The next morning Beckett pulls Ryan and Esposito into the break room after an exhausted Castle shows up with their coffee. They stayed up planning almost all night, knowing the element of surprise was one of the only things going for them. Castle called Paula and Gina as he stopped into the coffee shop and now they need to tell the boys before they get to the precinct.

Once the door is firmly closed Castle unravels their plan. His ability to weave together a mystery draws in Ryan and Esposito. But Castle's allusions to conspiracies and James Bond can't hide the one betrayal their plan is based upon.

"We're just going to throw Montgomery under the bus?" Esposito asks. "His family will be devastated. Beckett, he was our Captain, you looked up to him. We know his family. We can't do this to him."

Beckett looks at Castle who gives her a quick nod. "Espo, look, there's nothing else we can do that will keep us safe. He was part of this story and we can't just hide that if we want to figure out the truth."

"If we want to keep you safe, you mean" Castle adds. "Look, Esposito, this isn't about vengeance or revenge. These people are threatening Kate's life and if there's anything we can do to keep them from getting to her don't you think Montgomery would have wanted that?"

"His family will lose his pension. His little girls will lose all the good in the memory of their father."

"If you have any other ideas, Espo, I'm all ears," replies Beckett.

"We'll tell his wife together before anything comes out so she can decide how to handle it with their girls. And I'll find out how much his pension payment is and if he loses it I'll give it to them, every month," Castle adds. "Eventually his family will realize that his life was not defined by one mistake, just as we have. He redeemed himself through the job, he sought justice his whole life, and _that's_ what they'll remember."

A moment of silence reveals their acquiescence before Ryan asks, "So who do we tell first?"

"Gina and Paula are on their way now," responds Castle, alluding back to their plan.

"And then Gates," Beckett adds, surprising both Esposito and Ryan.

"She was in I.A., how can we trust her? How do we know she'll let you keep investigating? She took you off the case last fall." Esposito is as quick to distrust Gates as he was to defend Montgomery.

"We don't but we're going to need to trust her. We're also going to need a security detail we can trust. She is the one who can get us the resources."

"Won't doing this put a huge target on all our backs?" asks Ryan. "What happens if we don't figure it out? How will this keep us safe then?"

"The idea is to protect ourselves in two ways. The first being not hiding any of the information we have, so there's no reason to kill us to keep us quiet," explains Beckett.

"And the second is that we're all going to have to stick together," adds Castle. "They can pick us off one by one and call each incident an accident, but if we stick together and they try to kill all of us at once, that'll be a story."

"And if they do try to kill us then even more people will be interested in what we are trying to find," continues Beckett. "They're trying to hide the story so the way we get in front of them is to make any reactionary move against us another clue to the story."

"Right, so as I said one of the first things we have to do is find some sort of safe house, we should all stay together while this is happening."

"I know of a house we might be able to use. The gang unit would meet there with their undercover officers. It has good visibility, a secret back entrance, and hidden places for guards or lookouts." Esposito proposes, his concerns about Montgomery taking a backseat.

"Perfect, find out if it's available," says Beckett. "And when you see Gina and Paula send them in here along with Gates. We can have the meeting all together. The more people we tell each time the better at this point. Ryan, talk to Jenny, too. They might try to get to you through her… and call Mrs. Montgomery to come in. Tell her it might be an emergency, we need her here soon."

* * *

Ryan and Esposito leave the break room, quickly taking up their tasks while Castle and Beckett stare into space, overwhelmed and a night without sleep finally catching up to them. Castle reaches his hand out and places it gently over Kate's.

"We'll get this."

Kate purses her lips, "What if we're making a mistake? What if there's something we're not seeing. I just—we're getting everyone else involved in this and I can't help but think that maybe we're all in over our heads. It feels like we don't know anything about who did this and yet they're threatening us. Why?"

"Maybe we know more than we think? Or they think we know more than we do?"

"I just wish all of this would start to make sense."

They sit in silence for another minute, slowly sipping their neglected coffee before Kate continues. "And I wish that solving this would let me put this whole chapter of my life to rest." After a moment she adds, "Allow me to move forward."

Kate takes up Castle's hand to intertwine their fingers but still won't meet his eye. "Dr. Burke says this isn't true, but I keep thinking that once I know they aren't coming after me anymore, once they're all behind bars and can't get to me, once I can finally stop waiting for that other shoe to drop, that maybe my PTSD will just go away."

"What does Dr. Burke say?" Castle asks, pushing Kate more than he maybe should.

"He just says it doesn't work like that. PTSD doesn't just disappear. He's been trying to convince me—" Kate stops, unsure if she is willing to reveal this yet. She takes a deep breath and decides. "He says that I need to work on being present, in the moment, whenever I'm triggered. Some people learn to avoid the triggers but for me, I—I told him I couldn't do that. I won't avoid it forever. But I can't keep reliving the past."

Kate bites her lip, wondering if Castle understands the implication.

"Like you were last night?"

"Like last night, sometimes it's worse and it lingers. I just wish—Dr. Burke says it's a slow process and there's no quick fix to make it all go away. There are no pills and solving the case wouldn't be a pill."

"So when you said on the swings—" Castle starts to ask but they are interrupted by the door swinging open before he can continue. They quickly unclasp their hands before anyone can see, eyes again focused on their respective coffee cups.

* * *

The next 24 hours are a whirlwind of activity. The small circle of people who know about the case grows every hour, as Lanie, Montgomery's wife, the chief of detectives, various trusted cops who can act as bodyguards, Beckett's father, and Castle's mother and daughter, are added to the list.

Paula writes press releases to be sent out once everything is in place and sets up an interview for Castle and Beckett with CNN's Entertainment division to be broadcast live. Gina arranged for Black Pawn to create a website with the information Castle and Beckett had on the murder, using the computer files Castle sent over.

Esposito finds them a safe house and ensures it is secure. The whole place is swept for bugs, the windows and doors are confirmed locked, they test the bulletproof glass on the windows, and Castle hires a security company to be stationed outside. There are layers upon layers of redundancies, all designed to keep the team—and everyone associated with them—safe.

Now Esposito is out collecting Beckett's father and Montgomery's family and Ryan is picking Jenny up from her work. Martha and Alexis will get to the safe house after Alexis gets out of school and Lanie will come from work. Gates decides the safe house is only necessary for those in immediate danger except for the first night—when the whole plan goes live. Tonight they will all be in the house together.

But for these few minutes, the calm before the storm, it is just the two of them, and Castle paces nervously across the floor in their makeshift living room.

"Castle. Will you stop that?" Kate finally snaps.

"Right. Sorry." He stops pacing and sits on the other end of the couch.

"It's just, everyone will be here in a minute and this whole thing will be moving faster than we can even handle it."

"Yeah, awesome that Paula could get us an interview with CNN, isn't it?" Castle asks.

"Ha. Shows you how far 24 hour news networks have fallen, that they'll report on this story without even knowing what it is first."

"Well, it is the entertainment division and we're trying to play this up as a Nikki Heat adventure. But yeah. At least we didn't have to go with Fox. Everyone knows they just make stuff up. It wouldn't be believable." Kate smiled at Castle's attempt at lightening the moment.

"I was hoping we could get on The Daily Show but if this is the best you can do…"

"Do you want to practice?" Castle asks. "I mean, practice what we're going to say?"

"Honestly, no. For now, I just want to be here—with you. I want to enjoy this moment before everything is thrown to hell. We don't know what will happen and I know we've escaped death so many times but—"

"No," Castle interrupts. "Don't think like that. We'll be fine."

"Just in case…" Kate moves to sit next to Castle, picks up his hand, and intertwines their fingers. She leans her head on his shoulder and allows herself to relax into him. Castle reaches around to cradle Kate's face with his other hand, caressing her cheek with his thumb before dropping his hand to her lap. Exhaustion catches up with both of them and they quickly fall asleep waiting for the others to arrive.

* * *

_Thoughts?_


End file.
